Pacifier

\\ Isabelle //

The bathroom tiles glistened with condensation where the steam had risen and made itself at home. My skin caught the light in exactly the same way, and every time I sunk beneath the water, holding my breath and counting the seconds, I opened my eyes to watch ethereal rays break through the surface of the water and radiate towards me.

Every time I rose, drew in a breath, I was aware of Vans watchful gaze. And it felt strangely familiar.

Every now and then I would look over at him to find his eyes lingering on my shadow. I'd blink, chew my chin, and he'd smirk refusing to look away, daring me to lock with his gaze, but I couldn't.

When my brother opened the bedroom door I listened quietly to their conversation, trying my best to detect any signs of fear or despair, but their voices remained steady and sodden with guilt.
Still, they did not sound defeated and so I knew, with the two of them sitting there side by side on the bed, that Van had been telling the truth.

The fighting was over - for now - and I was safe. For now.

"I told Megs she could sleep in Isabelles room tonight," said Van.

"I know," said Johnny, grave voice low and laconic, "she's upset Van, she wouldn't let on but you know Megs, she can't help it,"

"I know," nodded Van and then he turned his cheek to show Johnny the red sting she'd left behind.

"She didnt tell me about that," he grinned, "fuckin hell,"

"Yeah well," I sensed half a smile in Vans tone, "I deserved it didn't I, Ruben had her up against the wall suckin the barrel of his gun..."

I bit my lip squeezing my eyes shut tight, trying my best to erase the vision from my memory, but I couldn't.

Megan's dead eyes were all I could see, the veins bursting as she refused to blink. Fathomless pupils dilated unable to look anywhere but at him.

"Fucking hell," breathed Bondy.

"Its not so bad," Van swallowed a lump in his throat...

"Don't," I chewed my cheek when my brother cut him off, a glance in my direction. I tried to pretend like I wasn't listening, but they weren't stupid. They knew. They knew just like I knew that Van had been about to mention my sister, he'd been about to say that Lyra had suffered worse.

They thought I didn't know, but I did.
It was hard not to overhear in The Balcony. Harder still not to listen when the kids at school started to make the connection.
At school I was untouchable, not because I was Isabelle Bond but because by brother was Johnny Bond and because my sister had been Lyra.
And people talk louder than they think they are in school corridors, behind classroom doors left ajar. I knew all the rumours about them, about her and about me.

"I told Camille she could have my room tonight," Johnny winced, "fucked that up didn't I,"

I bit my lower lip, sucking it in, heart racing when I heard Van cut him off.

"Its fine," he said, "Isabelles alright in here..."

At that I froze eyes darting up, lost on him. Suddenly I was the doe in the headlights, butterflies stirring up my insides, veins constricting.

"Yeah?" Asked Johnny raising his brow before wandering over to the bathroom doorway, standing to the side of the frame as he spoke through the wall to me. "Did you here that tink?" He asked, "do you want stay with Van tonight?"

I glanced around the room, the steam on the tiles, the droplets of water on my skin. The toothbrush by the sink and the soap on the side.

I looked up at him then, his silhouette strewn lazily across his bed. He'd not taken his coat off and the collar was turned up a little scruffy on one side.
He hadn't been looking at me but after a moment of silence he seemed to sense my trepidation turning his gaze on the curve of my shoulders, following my arms down to the waterline.